


your everything

by noirchime



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fridged Gamzee Makara, Gamzee's POV, New Planet, Past Abuse, Past manipulation, Post Mind Control, Post-breakup, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirchime/pseuds/noirchime
Summary: you had a diamond, perfect and pure and sweet.he was never yours. you were never his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off an alternate universe in which players find themselves on an entirely new and untamed planet stripped of their game-given duties and powers.
> 
> Fair warning: Sad and angsty.

by the time he told you outright, you already knew.

he’s spent an awful lot of time working around you.

found that doting on his other moirails was a far better use of his time-

didn’t have none left to cater to you.

 

eventually, you came to know just what kind of a romance it was.

brother sweet was ever so kindly-set; devoted his spare moments to rectifying that which you’d become. ~~when he wasn’t piling some other fucker.~~ liked to think he had you under control. thought himself the stable half, one what didn’t need papping down or cleaning up.

 

only a fool would label you more than a project.

you don’t know why you ever hoped differently.

he was never yours.

you were never his.

you don’t know why you’re crying.

 

once, you’d been a firm believer in miracles, in serendipity, in faith.

he’d rekindled that spark anew. he was your faith and your miracles, fire in the dark, your muse and your better half, careful chiding and sharp wit enough to set your soul aflame.

 

there hadn’t been no miracles in what you did to him.

what he felt obligated to do.

 

 _“i think it’d be better if we called it off,”_ he’d told you, chewing on his lip in that way that made you want to kiss it better.

you are weak. you are at his mercy.

“we’re just not working out.” he’d shrugged, painful and awkward, opting to avoid the desperation in your hollow eyes.

 

you are silent, censored, agonised as you make your retreat.

it’s worse than any torture you’ve been made to take.

you move your things from his block as soon as he goes to eat.

you decaptchalogue his shirt, the one you always wore around. you once bore his sign with pride.

you leave it there with your old pale affections.

he was never yours.

you were never his.

 

* * *

 

 

he has the others, and that’s gotta be enough. doesn’t matter none what’s made of you, ‘cause they take ~~better~~ good care of him.

you know he’ll still be happy.

you knew you mattered not.

hapless fool you are- had it coming from the moment you sank back into his embrace.

so why does it hurt so much?

 

you’re shattered. you’re broken. you’re anything but numb.

you don’t want to be fixed.

not unless it’s him doing the fixing.

but you know it just ain’t wont to happen.

 

after now, he will never have you back.

he wants you not.

 

your own essence runs like purple rivulets along the grooves of the floor.

 

it is fire, it is agony burning your soul.

you’ve likened him to fire many times, but it is only now that you feel the lick of his holy flames at your pusher.

 

his other self finds you, eventually.

he knows not where to start. he knows not how to treat you.

he was never yours. you were never his. you turn away.

he cannot love you.

“don’t make this any harder than it’s gotta be.”

 

he was never yours.

you were never his.

 

* * *

 

eventually, tavros catches on.

he sits down beside you, and his wings flutter in perceived concern.

you wish he didn’t notice.

you’d rather be struck down a thousand times more than be reminded of that which you have destroyed.

that which you have razed and ravaged in passivity and neglect.

 

inevitably, tavros puts thought to word.

he asks you how you feel about your ~~ex-~~ beloved.

“brother’s just as beautiful as the day he left.”

 

he was never yours.

you were never his.

 

* * *

 

it’s been days; weeks, you’re not sure which.

it still hurts. it’s still agony-

a beating on your shattered pusher.

 

he’s been awful busy as of late.

you can’t help but want to know where he’s at.

you can’t help but want to know who he’s with.

 

what motherfucker’s touching him up? who’s soothing his quakes?

~~who’s giving him that serene-sated edge you used to cherish so?~~

 

his diamond ain’t yours to think on. you know that and you know it well.

why is he so hard to forget?

 

* * *

 

 

it’s a little later on, when the camp’s taken to spending nights out by the fireside, that you next feel it most.

you’re weak. you’re tired. you’re ready to succumb to sleep.

everyone else seems to be cosying up to those what occupy their quadrants.

you don’t got ~~three~~ none of them filled- you’re on your own.

 

a few of them lay ocular to your plight- offer you a place in sympathy.

you accept. ain’t like you could refute such kinds of mercies.

 

you’re splayed out on your side, and you can feel the wind drafting through the gaps in the conifers on your cool, painted skin. it’s almost as cold as you are.

 

in its wake, everyone bundles up. get their cling on with quadrants and companions alike.

you elect to curl in on yourself- ain’t like the cold gets to you much.

it is then, when you shift, that you feel yourself ache with selfish want and lamentation.

 

he’s there a few paces away, beauteous thing he is, bundled up snug and tight in an old quilt he fished out the share hole.

your aeration sacs are fit to burst. your throat constricts and burns like a bitch.

he’s smiling, perfect and open ~~and just the way he used to do at you~~ , hand in hand with that orange alien motherfucker what always was too close for your comfort.

 

you want to laugh, since it’s almost funny.

when are you gonna learn that they’re out of your reach?

when are you next wont to recall your place?

you don’t belong here; cause here, you’re peaceful, rested up, supported.

_what are you doing here?_


End file.
